scratch my love into your skin
by kingslayers
Summary: You've gotten yourself buried under my skin, and every time I try to scratch you out and dig you out of my veins, I just bring you up to the surface and there's no escaping it. There's no quitting you. / Marlene McKinnon never wanted him to happen to her. —sirius/marlene, of heartbreakers and alexithymia. muggle!au.


**written for:** the austen challenge, which i fear may have been removed now; basically, it was write one of your favourite ships as if it was an austenian novel; i.e. no sexual contact (including kissing and explicit come-ons) until they were officially a thing. someone in the topic said that it was impossible to do with blackinnon and i guess i don't like being told what to do, so i decided to give it a go; i guess you guys get to be the judge of the extent of my success?

**warnings/notes:** muggle!au. i have this weird relentless passion for small town muggle au fics?! i'm very sorry. the ages are a little bit shaky, i guess? no biggies, i mean, it's not like regulus is older than sirius or anything, but yeah, i took some liberties with ages. also, james and the prewetts are cousins. just... because it worked for my purposes. families and friends are my favs. ALSO THIS IS KINDA LONG I'M SORRY. also at one point, i mention centimetres, and at another, inches—where i'm from, we use the metric system, but sometimes we use inches, if they work better, so... yeah.

**thanks to:** rach (calumhood) for cheering me on the minute i told her about it, zhie (renzhie) for being an absolute angel on twitter, pearl (lydiamaartin) for encouraging this endeavour and nic (symphonies of you) for being available to chat to about it and providing some prompts in case inspiration was needed.

**dedicated to:** anyone who takes anything away from this. anyone who likes au fics too. anyone who ships blackinnon. anyone who needs this, who relates to a character in here, who doesn't understand their feelings, who dreams of something more than what they have. this is for all of you.

**disclaimer:** very much disclaimed; i'm just playing around with someone else's toys (including some shakespearean quotes). xx

* * *

**sirius x marlene  
**_you are my escape_

they say we're too young now to amount to anything else  
but look around  
we work too damn hard for this just to give it up now  
if you don't swim, you'll drown

-:-

let's get out, let's get out  
'cause this deadbeat town's only here just to keep us down  
while i was out, i found myself alone just thinking  
if i showed up with a plane ticket  
and a shiny diamond ring with your name on it  
would you wanna run away too?  
'cause all i really want is you

_she looks so perfect_—**5 seconds of summer**

* * *

Her name is Marlene McKinnon, and she dreams of finding a reason.

**x**

There is a boy who wanders around the car park of her high school. His eyes are the same kind of grey as a storm cloud and his shaggy hair is the same colour as the shadows he leans in. He wears a leather jacket and a caustic smirk like battle armour, and Marlene wonders if they shield him in this war he wages against authority. His eyes echo Holden Caulfield, branding the town and all its occupants as phony without even speaking, and something in the curve of his smirk makes her think of a wolf.

He's the kind of boy that her Mum tells her to stay away from; the kind that Mrs Rosenburg up the street calls _trouble in a charming smile_.

He's the kind of boy she wishes she knew.

**x**

Gideon and Fabian Prewett are waiting for her at school on the first Monday of June.

Marlene raises her eyebrow at her seventeen year old neighbours. Gideon cocks an eyebrow in return and Fabian shoots her a cheeky grin.

"Hiya, Marls," Fabian greets, winking lasciviously at her. Gideon rolls his eyes at his brother and then turns to face Marlene. Before he can say anything, however, Marlene shoots him a look that says she knows they're up to something.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" she asks sarcastically, punctuating her words with a long-suffering sigh that she means in jest. She's known these jokers for long enough—they grew up together, for goodness' sake—to love them and count them amongst her closest friends, but that doesn't mean that they don't deserve some good deprecating sarcasm every so often.

Fabian acts wounded. "Marly!" he cries out, feigning sorrow. "You don't sound so delighted to see us!"

"And we are, of course, very delighted to see you," Gideon puts in, his wry smile counteracting his deadpan tone in such a familiar way that Marlene can't help the laugh that escapes her lips. It attracts the attention of several passers-by, including the boy from the car park. He looks up and fixes her with such a piercing gaze that she can't help but meet his eyes with a defiant look of her own; she may have never spoken to the boy before, but she is Marlene McKinnon, and she's never been able to resist a challenge.

The connection is held for longer than is strictly comfortable; it would appear that this boy is as stubborn as she is. In fact, they only break contact at the pointed cough of Gideon, to which Marlene looks down hastily. She feels a flush lurking in her cheeks, and she hopes her blonde curls hide it from the leather-clad boy, but a quick glance at his smirking face lets her know this is not the case.

Grunting in frustration, she whips her head away from him, and finds herself facing a thoughtful Gideon and an amused Fabian. "You okay, Marly?" Fabian asks with the kind of smile that makes most of Marlene's female classmates forget their names but is accompanied by the kind of knowing tone that infuriates Marlene for a reason she doesn't quite understand.

"Yes," she grinds out. "But what did you _want_?"

Fabian is clearly enjoying his new fodder—which Marlene hates herself for giving him, by the way—but Gideon seems to realise his brother is teetering on the edge of Marlene's patience, and quickly speaks before his twin can. "We want your help," he informs her. "Need it, to be honest."

Marlene glances at him. "With what?" she asks. It's been a long time since either twin has needed her help with the fairer sex and she can't think of anything else that she would be more qualified to help with than any of the other members of the town, all of whom adore the Prewett twins and would help them in a heartbeat.

The twins glance at each other. "Do you remember us ever mentioning our cousin James?" Gideon begins.

**x**

James Potter is sixteen, same as Marlene, and is apparently spending the year with his cousins due to some sort of family drama.

"It's ridiculous," he complains to Marlene, "because it's not like I'm in intermediate school anymore, you know? And I _know_ there's no way my father actually works in the analysis of obscure breeds of sea plants because what kind of job involving sea plants requires a company car and a standard issue pistol?" He glances at her. "By the way, I'm James."

She laughs at that. "I'm aware," she informs him. "I'm Marlene."

His face lights up. "Oh! That's why you're here," he says, running his hands through his hair and shooting her a rueful smile. "I wasn't sure if you were like, Fabian's girlfriend or something," he explains sheepishly, "but they've told me about you!"

Marlene processes all this. "Oh, man, Fabian's _girlfriend_?" she asks, clutching her chest as she collapses into giggles. "Nah, his girlfriends tend to be slightly…" she trails off, trying to think of a word, before settling on "more femininely-attired". It's an understatement. Fabian's last girlfriend—if that word could even be used without being laughable—only wore white, as was "befitting a good town girl", but only _tight_ white, accentuated with heavy gold lockets and the kind of shoes that were entirely impractical for actual use. Marlene, on the other hand, is a great believer in comfort; she and Fabian's girlfriends do not tend to get along.

James eyes her. "I prefer you," he tells her matter-of-factly. "What's the point of clothes if they _restrict_ you from participating in things outdoors?"

Marlene grins. "Yeah, and it's pretty hard to play football in a dress."

James' eyes light up. "You play?" he asks excitedly.

"Only female player in school," she admits.

James grins. "Knew there was a more valid reason to prefer you," he informs her cockily. "Wanna kick around a ball for a bit?"

**x**

Marlene's walking home from school when she hears a familiar voice engaging with an unfamiliar one. The first one—one that sounds like it's always enriched with laughter, and is currently chatting away easily—belongs to James, but the second voice is what intrigues her. It's slightly huskier than James', and has a charming lilt to it; its elocution is faultless, yet there is a certain roughness brought out by the smirk she can hear in his voice, and the effect is rather thrilling. She's certain she's never heard this voice before, which makes her curious; James had been around for a week, and had proved to be as popular as his cousins, but Marlene is _sure_ she knows everyone he interacts with at school.

She gives in to the impulse and walks towards the voices. It's not until she finds herself in the car park that she works out who the voice must belong to, and she's so surprised by this revelation that she doesn't have time to escape before James spots her.

"Mars!" he calls out, gesturing for her to come over. Marlene raises an eyebrow at him, as if to question why she should come at his beck and call, but rolls her eyes and joins him, pointedly not looking at his companion.

"You know Sirius, right?" James asks, and she would be surprised that James had managed to get a name in a week that Marlene hadn't discovered in sixteen years, except, y'know, it's _James_.

She forces herself to meet the boy's—_Sirius'_—eyes and is surprised to find a burning curiosity buried beneath the roguish look in his eyes. Marlene shakes her head, but Sirius saves her from speaking.

"Milady," he says in a tone that's simultaneously charming and sarcastic, accompanying his words with a mocking bow and flourish.

She almost flushes, but she fights down the emotion and instead strives for a deeply unimpressed look. "Milord and his fair steed," she replies in a flat tone, casting a critical—and secretly envious—gaze over his motorcycle.

James pouts. "How come I don't get a nickname?" he asks petulantly.

"You're the steed," Sirius informs him easily, an amused twinkle in his eye, and _oh_, this is a new dimension to the boy in the car park, and Marlene's heart may be beating a little faster.

The look on James' face incites a peal of laughter from her, and as much as she appreciates the fondly annoyed look James sends her, it's the oddly self-satisfied smirk on Sirius' face that has this incident replaying in her mind for weeks on end.

**x**

"You've really never met before?" James asks her in disbelief the following day.

Marlene knows exactly who he's talking about but she feigns confusion. "Met who?"

He rolls his eyes. "Sirius," he says impatiently, following her into the courtyard where they're going to eat lunch.

She blinks. "Nah," she tells him. "I'd seen him around, 'course—how could I not? He skulks around the car park every day—but I'd never actually _talked_ to him before."

James frowns. "You guys are really similar, though," he informs her as they descend onto the grass.

She whips her head around to stare at him in vague disbelief. "James, you literally _just_ met him," she reminds him. "How could you even know—and what do you mean, we're similar?" she demands, interrupting herself mid-sentence. She's _Marlene McKinnon_, blonde and the daughter of one of the founding families of the town and she's _nothing_ like this boy.

(She wishes she was, but that's not the point, is it?)

James shrugs. "You're both cool," he tells her nonchalantly. Most likely expecting the scoff that's about to emerge from her mouth, he continues, "and sarcastic. You're both bigger than this place." He glances at her shrewdly. "You both know it, too."

Marlene doesn't know what to say, so she hums noncommittally, his words turning themselves over and over in her mind.

**x**

Lily is waiting at Marlene's locker when she gets there, so Marlene simply raises an eyebrow in both greeting and questioning.

"I was hoping you'd come to the mall with me," Lily confesses by way of greeting, sending Marlene a lopsided smile.

Marlene's eyebrows shoot up. "Lils, I love you to bits, but don't you think Mary's a better choice for shopping?" she asks.

Lily grimaces. "And I love Mary to bits, but she's got a crush on that boy in her new math class—Russ? Remy?—and I'd rather not hear about him today," she says.

Marlene grins. "That's pretty cute," she says, thinking about her petite blonde friend, and the tall, gangly boy from her French class.

Of course, this is when James shows up. "Marly, are you talking about me again?" he crows, sidling up to her with a grin.

She rolls her eyes and shoves him good-naturedly. "As if," she scoffs. "The only cute thing about you is that you think you could beat me at football."

"Ooh," he intones, "that one _cut_. Good one, Mars Bar, but you know—" he cuts himself off as he catches sight of the redhead who'd been watching their exchange with undisguised amusement. "Hello," he says, running his hands through his dark hair, making it even messier than usual. His tone sounds cocky, obnoxiously so, but Marlene knows it's really just him being self-conscious.

Lily cocks an eyebrow and most of the good humour on her face evaporates when she takes in his seemingly cocky tone. "Hello," she says, slightly coolly, before sizing him up. "And who are you?"

Marlene knows that Lily must know who he is, even just from reputation, but at the cock of her eyebrow, she receives an almost imperceptible shake from the redhead.

"Your future boyfriend," James says, and Marlene has the impression that it was intended as deadpan, but it comes out as slightly hopeful and she internally face-palms.

"I think not," Lily says sharply, looking disapprovingly at him. She glances at Marlene, saying, "I'll be in the car park," as she breezes past.

James and Marlene turn to watch her departing form before Marlene socks him in the arm. "_Your_ _future_ _boyfriend_?" she repeats incredulously.

James puts a hand over his eyes and groans. "I know. Shut up. It sounded better in my head; more _suave_, you know?"

Marlene snorts. "Yeah, you were real smooth, football star."

**x**

"Is he always that obnoxious?" Lily demands from the fitting room.

Marlene laughs as she peruses the racks beside the fitting rooms. "No," she answers, before pausing. "Well, yes," she amends, "but in a good-natured way."

"Yes, he seemed fine and cool with _you_," Lily informs her disgruntledly, leaving the fitting room, "but it's like he became Gaston the second he turned away from you!"

Marlene is not surprised by the _Beauty and the Beast_ reference—Lily is a self-proclaimed Disney fanatic—but the extremity of the reaction James incurred to earn a comparison to _Gaston_, of all people, is somewhat startling.

"He was nowhere near as bad as Gaston, and you know it," Marlene says, fondly exasperated.

Lily appears to actually contemplate this. Marlene throws a pair of socks at her head.

"Okay, okay!" Lily says, laughing as she puts her hands up in mock surrender. "He isn't leading a hunt on my true love or forcing me to marry him, I'll give him that."

Marlene rolls her eyes. "He's spoken to you _once_, Lils," she drawls. "It'd be pretty impressive if he had; psychotic, but impressive."

Lily wrinkles her nose. "I suppose." At Marlene's exasperated glance, she bursts into laughter. "Oh, Marly, I know he's not as bad as Gaston but… he was just so obnoxious, you know? Not so much what he said—that _could_ have been kind of funny—but his _tone_, ugh. I wanted to squash him."

"Like a bug?" Marlene returns, smirking with amusement at the thought of her put-together friend doing such a thing to James.

Lily grimaces. "I suppose." She casts a critical gaze over the array of dresses she has before her and opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, she is interrupted by a voice that has been branding itself on Marlene's mind for days.

"Milady," Sirius greets Marlene, accompanied by a charming little bow and a caustic smirk.

Lily widens her eyes at Marlene but Marlene's eyes are fixed on the lithe boy before her. "Milord," she returns, dipping into a small bob of a curtsey, her tone as sarcastic as his smirk.

His smirk widens into a full-blown grin and Marlene finds herself startled by how beautiful he looks right then. "I find myself separated from my fair steed," Sirius says casually, widening his eyes in a mockery of distress.

Marlene cocks an eyebrow and pulls a deeply unimpressed face. "Well, now, that won't do, will it?" she muses. "After all, what is a lord without his fair steed?"

Sirius looks affronted. "Handsome, intelligent, interesting, good at things… did I mention handsome?" and he delivers it with such an earnest expression that Marlene can't help the giggle that erupts from her mouth.

She's a little horrified that she _giggled_ but most of all she's caught up in the interaction, revelling in how easy it is to talk to this boy who was simply _that boy in the car park_ a few days ago. Or at least, banter. She's not entirely convinced if the depth of their conversation constitutes as _talking_ yet… but it's definitely something.

A discreet cough from her right causes both Marlene and Sirius to turn and face Lily, suddenly reminded of her presence. The look on Lily's face is as bemused as it is amused; most of all, it seems to be demanding details from Marlene.

Sirius looks appraisingly at Lily. If there is any emotion on his face other than amusement—and even that, in most cases, seems manufactured to Marlene; as if the idea of being fun-loving and rebellious is more integral than actually being it, though she doesn't doubt that he is—then Marlene can't deduce it.

Lily gives in first. "I'm Lily," she introduces with a pretty smile. A beat passes. Then another. Finally, she asks, politely, "and you are…?"

He contemplates her for a second, before seeming to come to a conclusion. "Sirius," he drawls. "Sirius Black."

**x**

_prongs is online._

_marsbar is online._

**prongs**: yo marly i had an idea!

**marsbar**: omg what

james

is this going to make me scream

**prongs**: y is that ur automatic reaction

**marsbar**: idk why can you spell "automatic" and not "why" idgi man

anyway

what's the idea?

**prongs**: PARTAAAAYYYYYYYY

**marsbar**: u wot m8

**prongs**: no no marly its such a great idea!

think about it

we hate school

and we like people

so whats the correct answer!?

marly im waiting for u to say it

**marsbar**:… a party?

**prongs**: 50 points to marlene mckinnon!

wots ur middle name?

im gonna have a certificate printed

**marsbar**: alexandria

omg what

no forget that

don't do that it's a terrible idea!

**prongs**: HAHAHAHAHAHA U CANT TAKE IT BACK NOW

**x**

"James, this is kinda mental," Marlene says to him, warily watching the madness in front of her.

"It's _brilliant_," he corrects her, backed up by the nods of Fabian and Gideon.

"You're so lucky Mum loves you, man," Fabian says to him.

"—because she'd never let Fabe do this," Gideon finishes.

Mary tugs on Marlene's arm. "Marly," she whispers furtively, "you know how you're significantly taller than me?"

"You want me to check if I can see Remus?" Marlene asks knowingly. At Mary's bashful smile and blush, Marlene nods quickly. "Sure thing, Mac."

Marlene stands up tall and begins glancing around, seeking out a familiar mop of tawny hair. Someone sidles up beside her and she turns to see Sirius smirking down at her.

"Milady," he greets. Languidly observing her, he asks, "are you looking for someone?"

"Yeah, Remus Lupin—do you know him?" she answers.

He stiffens slightly. "Uh, yeah," he says, sounding a little odd.

She looks at him weirdly—did his voice just _drop_ an octave?—but just shakes her head. "My friend was wondering if he was around," she informs him, and she doesn't miss the disbelieving quirk of his eyebrow. It irritates her. Who does he think he is, assuming that she'd _lie_ about that?

Still, he scans the crowd, albeit with a look of annoyance that wasn't there before, which she doesn't even understand, okay, because she didn't even lie to him, and even if she _had_ lied, it wasn't a personal thing so taking it so personally makes _no sense_, and _ugh_, boys are so _dumb_.

He sullenly points towards the hallway and Marlene catches sight of a tall boy with a mop of tawny hair. "Thanks," she says in a clipped tone, brushing past him to find Mary in the kitchen—incidentally, the same direction as the hallway. His scowl deepens. Marlene feels a great urge to fling something at him, but, uncharacteristically, resists.

She heads into the kitchen, taking a left right before the hallway entrance. She even resists the urge to look back at Sirius and give him a look of the deepest judgement and triumph. "Mary," she calls to the little blonde, "I found what we were looking for."

Mary's eyes light up and she rushes over to Marlene. "Where?" she whispers and Marlene grins, taking her friend's hand.

She leads her through the hallway, up to where Remus is—and stops dead in her tracks, because Sirius is leaning against the stairwell and nodding to something Remus is saying. Mary moves behind her, jerking Marlene into motion. Squaring her shoulders, Marlene drags Mary over to where the two boys are standing.

"Hey Mary! You look great," Remus greets with a smile, before turning to Marlene, missing Mary's pretty blush. "Bonjour, Marlene," he greets. "Tu es charmante comme toujours."

Marlene rolls her eyes. "Tu es très sympa, mon ami," she says, laying it on thick with a joking simper.

Remus cracks another smile. "Kindness is one of my talents," he agrees jokingly.

"It is!" Mary insists, clearly catching the joking tone and wanting to ensure that he was aware of his genuinely kind nature.

Remus looks surprised, but accepts the compliment with a gracious bow.

"Flourish, however, is _not_ one of your talents," Sirius observes, reminding everyone of his presence. He's got a challenging smirk on his face but Remus takes it like a champ.

"Unfortunately we can't all be skilled in melodrama and theatrics," he returns easily, nudging Sirius in the ribs. Marlene blinks. Are they _friends_? Remus and James have been in this town for all of five seconds—okay, Remus had half a year on James, but _still_—and they befriend the most unapproachable kid around?

Remus catches sight of a girl in his math class and leans down to murmur some anecdote about her to Mary, who'd been sick for a day last week and had missed the apparently hilarious event. Sirius takes the opportunity to touch Marlene's elbow and guide her to turn towards him.

"So," he says finally.

"Extremely eloquent," Marlene says with a roll of her eyes.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "I, uh, may have appeared a bit doubtful—"

"You think?" Marlene says sarcastically.

"Oh, come on, it's not as if 'oh, it's for a friend' is the most genuine excuse in the book," he returns defensively, putting on a whiny falsetto for the 'oh, it's for a friend' part.

"But it wasn't an _excuse_," Marlene argues. "It was the _truth_. And you didn't believe me."

He looks down at his feet. "Yeah, I know. It wasn't fair."

"Damn right," she says, unwilling to let him off the hook that easily. Okay, he looks like a forlorn puppy, and yeah, her heartstrings are being tugged a little for him, but that doesn't mean he just gets a free pass on this. Anyway, she has no idea _why_—

"Why didn't you believe me? Why did it even _matter_?" she demands.

He looks shiftily to his left. Marlene keeps her eyes trained on him. He grumbles for a second and then snaps his eyes up to meet hers. "I don't like lies," he says eventually. "And I know you weren't lying, and I know it wasn't fair of me to assume you were but… I dunno, I'm used to being lied to."

His words knock the wind out of Marlene's sails. She's still frustrated, of course, and a part of her still wants to give him a piece of her mind and yell at him for being so confusing and ridiculous, but most of her is feeling a little sad about what he said. Sad or numb, anyway. She's not really sure which.

James chooses that moment to arrive. "Whoo, my two top wildcats!" he cheers.

The tension lasts for another second, but eventually gives way to the good humour that James brings with him wherever he goes.

"Yeah, Sirius is the incarnation of Troy Bolton," Marlene says with a smirk.

Sirius rolls his eyes at her, and Marlene is struck by their sudden switch in behaviour. "Well, I'm hot, I can fix cars, play sport and sing like a rockstar, so it's not a bad comparison," he banters.

Marlene stares at him. "Did you just say Zac Efron's hot?" she demands, causing James to break into raucous laughter.

Sirius shrugs, unrepentant. "Hey, one gorgeous specimen of man to another," he says nonchalantly. "No shame, Mars."

Marlene grins. "True," she agrees with a nod. "Wait, you can _sing_?" she asks.

James' eyes twinkle and before Sirius can answer, he says, "well, I think it's time to break out the karaoke!"

Sirius' eyes widen a little, Marlene stifles a giggle, and Fabian, who'd been passing by them and heard, lets out a cheer. "WHOOO!" Fabian shouts. "Karaoke time! First up, Black and McKinnon!"

Marlene stops laughing immediately. "Wait, _what_?" she demands, alarmed.

Fabian grins. "You'll be fine."

**x**

After they sit down, Marlene swears that she will sacrifice Fabian to some sort of trickster deity the first chance she gets because singing karaoke has swiftly gone to the top of her _never do again_ list. There's a reason she's never done it before: she's not actually a _bad_ singer and that's the problem. If you're taking part in karaoke with a large group of people, you either have to epically suck and completely own that, or you've got to have a voice that'll knock them dead. You can't be in between. It's just… vaguely uncomfortable.

James chose the song. For that, Marlene decrees, he ought to be punished. It's not that _She Looks So Perfect_ is a bad song, or anything—quite the contrary, as Marlene has always been a fan of pop-punk and punk-rock—but it's just not one that you expect to sing with Sirius Black. The most frustrating thing about the whole experience is that it was _fun_; really, it was. Sirius is a good singer, and his theatrics and sarcastic sense of humour mean that his delivery of lines about her wearing his underwear—god forbid—were way less traumatic than they would have been if _Snape _was singing the same lines—oh, god _really_ forbid—and singing and dancing with him, sharing experiences with him, felt surprisingly natural. No, the issue came about when they finished, breathless and grinning at each other… and suddenly Marlene noticed everyone else. They'd all kind of faded away during the performance; it had been like she and Sirius were the only people who mattered, with James, Mary and the twins making special guest appearances, and the rest of the world faded away to background noise. But as soon as the song finished, she was all too aware of them again, and abruptly left, pushing past the crowd to make her way to the twins' backyard and sit in the swing hanging from their tree. The swing was made to seat two but was thankfully unoccupied when she arrived. She can't be sure she wouldn't have shoved off anyone who was already sitting there, in the mood she's in.

Marlene sighs, looking up at the stars as she swings gently, her toes skimming across the grass. She counts the stars and traces constellations with her eyes, revelling in the night air and the loneliness of the world around her. The air is cool and sparking with potential, like whole galaxies could be created and dreams fulfilled in the space between this time and when the next human comes out to populate her world.

"Hey," a familiar voice breaks the silence of her world and she prepares for the reverie to dissolve around her, but amazingly, it doesn't. It's like it shakes, but decides to accept Sirius Black into itself, and fill the space around him.

"Hey," she replies quietly, smiling at him. He meanders over and then indicates towards the swing questioningly. She shuffles over slightly and he fills the space where she used to be.

They swing together in silence for a while before he breaks the silence again. "It's a bit crazy in there, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she replies. "I'm usually all over that kind of thing—I like people, you know? Or at least my friends, and there's a ton of them in there. But… I don't know. It's too much tonight."

He nods. "It's so… superficial. Meaningless," he says, and Marlene's a little surprised by the vehemence in his tone.

"It's not the worst thing in the world," she says gently.

"Out of things you could dedicate your life to being, I think meaningless ranks pretty highly on the list of terrible life choices," he says wryly.

She doesn't disagree, exactly, but there's something in her that's distinctly uncomfortable with dismissing her friends and their life choices as meaningless. He seems to take her silence as a request for elaboration because he starts talking again.

"Don't you ever feel like you want more than this?" he asks, and his voice is urgent now. "Like you need more, you _deserve_ more, than this small town and its traditions and small town hang ups and issues? Don't you ever want to just, I don't know, escape? Run away and explore the world and travel and _do _things? Things that would be revolutionary in a town like this, things that would be _anarchy_ to the social order of this town?"

His breathing is ragged now, and so is Marlene's, because all of a sudden her heart is yearning so hard that she can barely breathe, because _yes_, she wants this, she wants it more than anything and she's never been able to place the feelings of restlessness in her before but now this boy—this rebellious, articulate, charming, _infuriating_ boy—has named it for her, pinned it down for her, defined her better than she could ever articulate herself, and she kind of wants to kiss him for it.

She doesn't, of course, because she's Marlene McKinnon and she's impulsive, sure, but she's always been very protective of her heart, and she has no intention to throw that protection away with one badly-reasoned kiss.

Still, her gratitude and desire is practically palpable and she can hear Sirius' breath hitch as he looks at her. "Yes," she breathes, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "I want that."

They're still sitting there, staring at each other, lost in their hopes and dreams, when James steps outside to find them.

**x**

Marlene is lying on a blanket in the middle of the park, staring up at the clouds, when Sirius flops down beside her.

"Milady," he greets, filching her sunglasses from off her head and placing them on his own face.

"Thief," she retorts, sitting up to face him. She makes a play for her sunglasses, but he bats her hand away, looking far too smug for her happiness—but also flowery, given the pattern on her sunglasses.

"Rude," he says. "I'm merely borrowing them."

Marlene raises her eyebrow. "Usually borrowing indicates permission, or at least some sort of request for it," she says snippily.

Sirius shoots her a smirk that makes her toes curl up. "I guess that makes you a thief, 'cause I sure didn't give you permission to take my breath away," he says roguishly, inciting peals of laughter from her that just make him grin wider.

"That was _terrible_," she says once she catches her breath, "genuinely awful—just, so _corny_."

He pretends to look affronted. "That was from the _heart_," he insists, to which she raises an eyebrow.

"What heart?" she teases innocently.

His mouth widens in mock-outrage. "The one you stole from me, fair princess," he shoots back without missing a beat, and now it's _her_ breath that's being taken away because she could almost believe it for a second.

"Well, it's only fair," she says. He raises an eyebrow, clearly asking her to elaborate. "I mean, with you stealing my sunglasses and all," she continues.

He snorts. "Yes, the heart of a handsome young hero is of equal value as the heroine's sunglasses," he remarks dryly.

"And there was me thinking you were the dragon," she says with mock-surprise, shaking her head.

"I don't think I've ever been so offended in my life," he deadpans.

"Clearly, I haven't been doing my job well enough until now," she retorts, and is rewarded by the sound of his bark of laughter.

She's sure he's about to respond when music suddenly fills the air, and they look around to see the local band competition—known as the Quidditch Cup—kicking off, with the red band, known locally as the Lionhearts, starting to perform. The opening bars surround them and soon enough, the voice of the lead singer starts crooning out the melody.

"Well, milady," Sirius says, standing up and extending his hand towards her, "would you care to dance?"

Marlene looks at him carefully, because this is verging onto new territory, but she can't bring herself to care, and she lets herself get swept away into the moment, as she's prone to do with this boy. "Of course, milord," she says with a grin, accepting his hand and laughing as he twirls her around him as they prance across the grass.

**x**

For her English project the following week, Marlene is put in a group with James, Dorcas Meadowes and Benjy Fenwick. The whole class has to take part in this project, which is some weird mix of analysing a scene or character from a Shakespearean play, making a twenty minute film and performing either slam poetry or a musical piece relating to the aforementioned Shakespeare component, but modernised.

"Slughorn has actually _lost his mind_," Marlene announces, staring at the task sheet in her hands as she dumps her bag beside the study table her group is meeting at.

"Oh my God, right?" Dorcas says, chewing her bubble gum. "Like, literally, _what the_—"

"Miss Meadowes," Professor McGonagall interrupts, giving her a severe look as she passes them on her way out of the library. "I trust that you were going to abide by the school rules and utter only appropriate language."

Dorcas mock-salutes her, but the look in her eyes is less flippant than it usually is. "Oh, 'course, Professor. I was only going to query as to what the nargles had done to his brain when he assigned this task," she says brazenly.

Professor McGonagall's lip twitches, but she only gives a terse nod before leaving them. James raises his eyebrow at Dorcas. "Nargles?" he queries.

"She's been talking to Xeno Lovegood," Benjy supplies with a slight roll of his eyes. "He's convinced that they're a legitimate thing; some sort of fairies that mess with your mind?"

"Pretty sure those were the wrackspurts, Benj, but good try," Dorcas shoots back.

Benjy sighs. "The only thing more mental than the list of things Xeno Lovegood thinks are real is this assignment," he grumbles. "I mean, _a musical piece about a modern Much Ado_?"

"Or slam poetry," James offers.

Marlene grumbles. "This is insanity. Lils' class just has to create a group powerpoint presentation on the theme of appearance and reality in Shakespearean works! What on earth does slam poetry, music or a _twenty minute film_ have to do with a Lit course?"

James looks overly interested once Lily's name is mentioned. "What's Evans' play? And who's in her group?"

Marlene has been avoiding this question, but it turns out that she doesn't even have to answer it. "Romeo and Juliet, and she's with Mary Mac, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape," Dorcas says breezily. James stiffens.

"The slimy _git_?" he asks in horror. "Mary and Rem will be acting all cutesy which will leave her with nobody but _Snape_ while discussing the most romantic play of all time," he spits out.

Marlene winces. "Yes, but James, they've been friends for years," she reminds him quietly. His resounding glare suggests her input was not welcome.

Benjy looks somewhat amused. "James, she will be _fine_. The real question is, will we?"

**x**

They end up working out a way to combine everything so they don't have to spend quite so long on this baffling project—they decide to make their film a modern take on _Much Ado About Nothing_, analyse the characters of Benedick and Beatrice through their translating of them to the modern adaptation and somehow weave a musical piece into the film: Dorcas was all for the slam poetry route, but when Benjy showed her the scene in _10 Things I Hate About You_, she recoiled, stating that a musical piece was better than ripping off the idea from another modernised Shakespearean adaptation._  
_

The issue is that there are only four of them, yet the cast of Much Ado is larger; Benjy argues for cutting some characters, but Marlene points out that they still require more than four, and they need at least one more than the number of characters, in order for there to always be a cameraperson on hand.

"So we get people to help," James says with a shrug, and that's that.

James, always so dramatic, agrees to be Claudio, and Marlene persuades Lily to be his Hero—and if she neglects to inform Lily of James' attachment to the role of Claudio until Lily is entirely on board, well, she's never claimed to be a perfect person, and it's not as if Lily wouldn't get along with James if she gave him another chance _anyway_—while Fabian takes on the role of Leonato, and Gideon as Antonio—"yes, because there are so many redheads named _Antonio_," Dorcas says, before conceding the point that if Lily is Hero, her father and uncle should probably resemble her—with Benjy electing to take on the role of Don Pedro. Benjy enlists his best friend, Mundungus Fletcher, to take on the role of Don John, which he takes to with startling ease.

However, it is Benedick and Beatrice that everyone is concerned with.

"You're Beatrice," Dorcas says to Marlene without even looking up from the brainstorm she has in her hands when the subject comes up.

Marlene frowns, but before she can say anything, Benjy pipes up, "who else would it be, Marls?"

"Dorcas," she answers immediately.

Dorcas looks up. "What?" she says in surprise. "I want to direct. I'll jump in as an extra or something, but you should be Beatrice."

"Well, fine, but what about Benedick?" Marlene asks.

James grins. "I thought that was obvious."

**x**

"What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?" Sirius greets her as she arrives on set, accompanied by a wink.

"Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence," she shoots back; it's a reflex, now, with all the reading of the play she's been doing for this assignment.

Sirius clutches at his heart, a mockery of being wounded, and people are chuckling around them.

"It's very clunky dialogue," Dorcas muses. Marlene doesn't agree, per se—the Bard's wit flows, as far as she's concerned—but she does take the point, given that it's a modern adaptation.

"Is it possible for disdain to die when there's an abundance of material to feast on like yourself?" she improvises, facing Sirius, and is rewarded by a gleam in Dorcas' eyes.

"Perfect," she says with a clap. "Just... snark at each other. Stick to the script, loosely—both the actual play and the stuff we wrote—but otherwise, let the vibes run free."

The day passes in an endless stream of barbs and snark and even some blushing—that's all James, though—and by the end of the day, they've got about five minutes of good footage.

"This is going to take a while," James grumbles, but Dorcas is undeterred.

"Yeah, but it'll kick _ass_ when it's done," she says with a satisfied smirk.

Marlene is too busy commenting on the unruly nature of Sirius' hair—"it's like a mop of darkness, Black" "oh, yeah, because you can talk with _that_ blonde mane of curls, McKinnon"—to even notice their exchange, or the fact that the cameras aren't rolling anymore, because being with Sirius is genuinely _so easy_ sometimes.

**x**

_prongs is online._

_marsbar is online._

**prongs:** sooooooooooooooo

**marsbar:** are you abusing your o key for a reason or

**prongs:** you and pads are rly getting into this!

gettin' your nothing on ;)

did you know that nothing was elizabethan slang for lady parts

**marsbar:** ... james what

why do you even

i don't

just what

**prongs:** the point is that you and padfoot are so otp

**marsbar:** james you need to stay away from tumblr omg

**prongs:** no but you were enjoying yourself today

**marsbar:** no

**prongs: **dont lie to me

**marsbar: **okay fine but

not bc of what you think

okay

**prongs:** i dont believe you marly O:)

**marsbar:** rude

**prongs:** i think you should just admit

that you like him

and wanna jump him

**marsbar:** i don't think i want to have this convo with you

**prongs:** RUDE

**marsbar:** you're being ridiculous

**prongs:** mars im hurt

im ur fav person in the WORLD

why would you not have this convo w/me?

marly

marlene alexandria

wHY

**marsbar:** uh

"fav person in the world"

excuse you

i'm more attached to rdj than you

tbh

**prongs:** that was just uncalled for

ur cruelty wounds me :(

bad lady disdain bad

**marsbar:** claudio doesn't call beatrice that you nitwit

**prongs:** hmph

he should

bc shes clearly too busy wanting to suck face with benedick to take him saying it srsly

**marsbar:** omg you're way too into this

**prongs:** calling you lady disdain?

**marsbar:** no analysing the play

**prongs:** admit it you have fun with sirius

**marsbar:** where did that even come from

we were discussing YOU

**prongs:** dont lie

that was just a distraction

BUT I AM MAGIC AND DONT GET DISTRACTED

**marsbar:** pls

lily smiled at you and you forgot to breathe for half a minute

**prongs:** shut up

this is about YOU

**marsbar:** i honestly don't know where you're getting this from

you've known sirius longer than i have

and you haven't even been here for half a year yet

**prongs:** yeah well i have no interest in flirting w/pads

**marsbar:** excuse you what do you call what you guys do

**prongs:** friendly behaviour

**marsbar:** you called him a hot girl

**prongs:** which he clearly is not

so its not flirting

its joking

duh

honestly marls arent u meant to be the smart one

**marsbar:** that's remus

**prongs:** oh yeah

if u were smart we wouldnt be having this convo

**marsbar:** like you can talk

mr i-like-lily-evans-so-much-that-i-glared-at-diggory-for-borrowing-her-pen

**prongs:** diggory is a dick tho

**marsbar:** true

did you know he once strung dorcas along

**prongs:** no! ! !

is that why benj hates him so much?

**marsbar:** yeah and fabian

**prongs:** whaaaaat

**marsbar:** omg fabian is so into dorcas it's crazy

i mean he won't admit it but

benj and gid and i have discussed it

**prongs:** why wasnt i invited :((((((

**marsbar:** you were with sirius

**prongs:** who u ARE INTO

**marsbar:** you are ridic

_marsbar has logged off_

**prongs:** avoidance of feelings isnt healthy or cool yo

_prongs has logged off_

**x**

Marlene tries not to think about James' theory. She really does.

The thing is, she doesn't _want_ it to be true, so she tries to convince herself it's not. Which is hard to do if she's not thinking about it, so either way, she's failing at something she's trying to do, which leaves a distinctly sour taste in her mouth.

Marlene doesn't like failing. She also doesn't like depending on people or other people understanding things she doesn't or being bad at things or _romantic feelings _because whenever she's seen people succumb to them, it's ended—well, maybe not quite badly, but not how she wants her life to end up. She has no interest in staying in this town as a good little wife, but she has no intention of running away from a broken heart, like Hestia Jones did when Kingsley Shacklebolt proposed and she said no.

Marlene remembers Hestia well. Hestia was best friends with Lorraine, Marlene's older sister, so two years older than Marlene herself. Kingsley was the Head Boy of his year, one year older than Lorraine and Hestia, and he and Hestia had been together for her entire high school life. He'd proposed a few weeks before she was to graduate, which was a bit of a shock—not that he wanted to marry her, but that she hadn't graduated yet. Kingsley was not known for his impatience, after all.

Hestia had come crying to their house that night, and Lorraine had bundled her up into her room, not even acknowledging that Marlene was still splayed on her bed. Marlene still remembers everything from that night; the sobs ripping from Hestia's chest, Lorraine's worry and frantic questioning, and the eventual truth from Hestia, punctuated by sobs: "I lo-love him _so much_ and it genuinely hurts, like, I feel the feelings expanding in my chest until I can't _breathe_ because I care so much but I'm- for God's sake, I'm _seventeen_, and I can't m-marry him and I feel so _awful_ and not just because I'm guilty about saying no but because _it genuinely feels like I'm losing a limb_ and I don't know how to do this, Lorraine, I just—I just want to _live_ and do more than just _love him_, you know? Because I do, I _do_ love him, so much that it hurts, and that's a _wonderful _thing, but it can't be the only wonderful thing I ever do with my life. I'm not _ready_ to give up all my dreams yet."

Marlene hasn't thought about that night much for the last year, but it's been cropping up a bit recently—she'd like to think it's because she's now only a year younger than Hestia had been, but she has a sneaking suspicion that it's more to do with James' theory and a certain shaggy-haired idiot with a heart-wrenching smirk, which greatly unsettles her, as well as puts her in a bad mood. She might be handling this better if he wasn't so _elusive_, but he is, and he keeps everyone at arm's reach, and every time she thinks it's easy to be around him, he does something to close himself off and make her question whether she really knows him at all.

This is literally the only reasoning she has for the way she reacts next, and okay, she knows it's not really great reasoning or particularly rational but she's never been a rational person, per se, and she's had it to about here with the whirlwind of emotions inside of her that she doesn't have a clue how to detangle but everyone else seems to think they understand.

"McKinnon," a familiar voice calls, and she's _really_ confused because she's _inside_ the school and since _when_ has he come _inside_?

She whirls around. "Black?" she says, and she really was going for a cooler tone than the confused jumble of surprised and hopeful—seriously, _what_?—that comes out, but apparently the universe just hates her today.

"Don't sound so ecstatic to see me," he snorts.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she says, and it's meant to be dry but she overcompensates because of how _hopeful_ her last sentence sounded and now she sounds acidic, like she genuinely would never dream of being happy to see him and he'd be deluded to think otherwise. Which wasn't what she was going for. At _all_.

His face closes off a little, and then a smirk paints itself on his face and it's utterly fake, she can see that, and it makes her mad that he's using a fake expression on her and she's mad that she can _tell_ and she's mad that she, what, _unsettled_ him enough that he felt like he _needed_ a fake smirk, a pretence at being himself, and she's just genuinely very frustrated right now and the distinctions between the forces behind her frustration are getting quite blurred.

"Don't _do_ that," she finds herself snapping at him.

"Do what?" he tries to play off with a little laugh, but he sounds kind of on edge, and god, sometimes she _really_ hates herself.

"_Pretend_," she snarls back. "I'm sick of—I'm _sick_ of everything. You are confusing and you _never_ give me a straight answer to anything and you just waltz around with your leather jacket and _oh so cool _motorcycle and you talk about anarchy and revolution and getting out of this town like you actually mean it, like you're not just some bored apathetic _boy_, but you don't, and you never do _anything real_, and you're snarky and you push everyone away and you're always hanging around the car park—who _does_ that? Do you even _go_ to this school or do you just hang around there because you don't have anywhere else to be?—and you always look at me like you expect something of me, like you have some sort of achievement standard for me that I'm not living up to but you _push_ everyone away and you tell me people lie to you and make me feel like we're friends but then you close yourself off and for God's sake, I don't even know where you _live_, and you're always here and it's so _exhausting_, Sirius, because it's so easy to be with you, but then you do _that_, you fake things and you mask yourself and I don't even know if I actually _know_ you or if it's just some act, some _game_ because you're bored, and I'm just sick of it, because I am _more_ than a toy, and every time you fake something, it's like you're lying _straight to my face_ and I genuinely can't breathe because it's so frustrating and _hurtful_ and I didn't _ask_ for this, I didn't _ask_ to know you, so what gives you the right to make me feel like this? Like I can't breathe, like I'm going to pull my hair out, like the whole world rests on my shoulders every time you try to mask your feelings, because you _do_ and it _sucks_, and I hate it _so much_ and _nobody was ever meant to be this important_," and she's _seething_ and shaking and her chest feels tight and she's about _ten seconds_ away from hyperventilating and she thinks maybe tears are welling up in her eyes and she _really_ hates herself right now._  
_

She gasps in a breath and she looks at him properly, and he looks dumbfounded but he also looks hurt and angry and guilty and his expression is starting to close off again and she's so _angry_, angry at him, angry at James for introducing them and shoving her feelings in her face, angry at Fabian and Gideon for thrusting James upon her, angry at Kingsley for proposing to Hestia, angry at Hestia for crying in Lorraine's room even though she was the heartbreaker and angry at Hestia for running away, and most of all, Marlene is angry at herself because she knows she's about to do exactly the same thing as Hestia did._  
_

She turns and walks away.

**x**

**lily evans:** [13:11] marlene, are you okay?

**me:** [13:12] i'm fine.

**lily evans:** [13:15] are you sure? because mary says you didn't look fine. and people usually aren't fine after having a fight. or a rant. or anything big involving feelings. and you're a very emotionally ruled person, so it stands to reason that you're even worse. and it's okay, you know, to need help. to not be able to handle it all on your own. i love you, mars. we all do. i'm here for you.

**me:** [13:16] lily, it was just a fight. and it was my fault. what part of this are you not getting? it's MY fault. i don't get to play the victim here. and i don't need to. because i'm fine.

_your phone is now powering off._

**x**

She knows James is going to be pissed.

Scratch that. She knows he _is_ pissed. There's no way he hasn't heard what's gone down by now, and even if he and Marlene are close, he and Sirius have this weird pack bond, and anyway, even if he liked her better, he's not just a loyal person, he's a _good_ one, and she knows she's the bad guy here.

It just sucks a little, because she doesn't know what came over her, really, and he's the only one who knows both her and Sirius well enough to be of any use. But she made her own bed, and now she will lie in it.

Marlene is many things, but nobody can say that she doesn't own everything she does, even if she doesn't want to.

She skips last period, and okay, maybe she doesn't want to see James or the twins on her way home so she leaves early, but maybe she just genuinely doesn't want to go to chemistry. Maybe.

When she ends up at home, she sees a familiar yellow car that makes her heart leap into her throat and a little bit of the horrible knotty feeling in her stomach dissipate. She runs inside to find her sister sitting at the bench.

"Lorraine," she lets out in something that is half a sigh of relief, and half a cry, and her sister turns in alarm, just as Marlene falls into her arms. "Today sucked," she mumbles into her sister's shoulder.

Lorraine hugs her sister tight, before releasing her and surveying the younger blonde's drawn face and still-slightly bloodshot eyes. "My room," she says firmly. "I'll bring the ice cream up in a sec."

Marlene trudges up to Lorraine's room and huddles in Lorraine's duvet, hugging her pillow to her chest. Lorraine comes in, armed with a tub of chocolate ice cream and two spoons, and takes note of her little sister's position. She puts the tub on her bedside table and sits on the bed, slinging an arm around her sister.

"What happened, Marly?" she asks gently, and soon, the whole sordid story—from seeing him in the carpark to meeting him to the party to the film to that afternoon—is tumbling from her lips, punctuated with a few shaky moments, and she can't help but see the irony in the situation; she'd always sworn she'd never get herself into a predicament like Hestia, and yet here she is, a year later, in a situation with so many parallels that she could write an essay on it.

Lorraine sighs when it's all over, and rubs soothing circles on Marlene's back. "How do you feel, Marls?" she asks gently.

Marlene shoots her a look of disbelief. "Guilty. Stupid. Irrational. Rotten. Ridiculous. Do you want more?" she says, slightly snarky.

Lorraine purses her lips. "I mean about Sirius," she clarifies.

Marlene keeps looking at her. "What I just said," she mumbles.

Lorraine eyes her steadily. "Are you sure? Because... I know it's confusing. I know. But it didn't happen because you're a bad person, or anything—you're _not_. You're a good kid, Marls, you're just really emotional right now and a bit out of your depth."

Marlene absorbs this, and looks down at her hands. "I think," she says, eventually, "that I'm still a bit angry because he keeps holding me at arm's length, when I can't do the same to him." She suddenly feels very small. "It's like I was trying so hard to be let in that I didn't notice that he'd crawled into here—" she taps at her chest, "—and left his own shields up." She suddenly feels very tired. "I just want to stop feeling things, Lor," she says, dropping her head onto her sister's shoulder.

Lorraine murmurs comfortingly to her. "I know, Marly. I know."

**x**

_Hey, you've reached Marlene! I'm busy kicking ass and taking names, but if you leave yours and a message—also a number if I don't have yours—then I'll make like Rocky and be in touch ASAP!_

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!_

"Uh, hey, Marls... it's James. In case you couldn't. Um. Tell. Anyway, I was—screw it. Marly, I miss you. _So_ much. And I'm worried because I literally haven't seen you for _days_ and I want to know if you're okay and I want to talk to you and I have no idea what happened that day, except that Mary said she was worried about you and Sirius hasn't been showing up at the car park and there are a ton of rumours but I'm not taking rumours for granted when my mates are involved and I just—look, can you do something for me? Go to 12 Grimmauld Place. It might help. I don't know. Just... call me or something when you're ready. Please."

**x**

Marlene stares at her phone, her fingers hovering over the call button as the screen shows her James' contact details.

_He doesn't know what happened._ It's a blessing and a curse; he doesn't hate her, yet, but it means she has to tell him, but she can't bear to make him hate her and she just doesn't know what to do.

She owes _something_ to him, though, so she decides to do what he asks and visit 12 Grimmauld Place, even though she's not really sure where it is—pretty shocking, to be honest, given the small nature of her town, but she just shakes her head and googles it.

She lives on Chanverie Road, and Grimmauld Place is on the other side of town. Her eyebrows shoot up. Why on earth would James want her to go _there_? But she does, anyway. Chanverie Road, where she and the Prewetts live, is an old section of the town, where a lot of the earliest families live, especially those who are influential in the town government and church.

Grimmauld Place is even older. It's in a Gothic area of their town, surrounded by trees and sprawling wildflowers, and it's a shadier part of town. Beautiful, and steeped in as much history as a small town can be, but it's dark and Marlene has never had much reason to be out here before. Families that boast long important lineages—with ancestors such as old European royalty and, it's rumoured, some crueler politicians and witch-burners—live here, such as the Malfoys and the Lestranges and the—

And the Blacks.

Marlene is _so, so stupid._ She knows Sirius' surname is Black—she was there when he introduced himself to Lily, after all. It just never occurred to her that the boy with shaggy hair, a leather jacket and a motorcycle named _Marauder_ would be one of _those_ Blacks.

Marlene slows her bicycle down as she pedals down Grimmauld Place, stopping outside a massive, ornate mansion. It's dark, and gloomy, and she thinks those pillars might actually be gargoyles and _what is she doing here?_

"What are you doing here?" a voice says, and it's so _familiar_ but it's so cold and Marlene's heart stops dead in her chest, certain that Sirius hates her. She turns to face him; however, the boy is younger than Sirius, and his hair is in a tidy haircut.

He looks like Sirius, but without the rebellion. His eyes are the same colour but there's none of the warmth Sirius' have, though there's some of the same curiosity, and— "I said, what are you _doing_ here?" he repeats, his voice slightly irate.

Marlene blinks. "I was just, uh..." she trails off. He cocks his head expectantly. "Looking around," she says lamely.

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, I suggest you do it elsewhere. You are verging on trespassing—" he looks pointedly down at her feet, which are mere centimetres from the grass outside the mansion, and she blushes, "—and if my parents caught you, they would be liable to contact the authorities."

Marlene gapes at him. She intends to ask if they're crazy, but instead, what leaves her mouth is: "Does Sirius live here?"

The boy's eyes widen and he strides forward, grasping her by the arm and pulling her away from the property. "They really will contact the authorities if you mention him," he whispers fervently.

"You didn't answer my question," she says, wrenching her arm out of his grasp and rubbing it.

He eyes her carefully. "No," he says eventually. "Not anymore."

She blinks at him, and she must look seriously dumbfounded because his eyes soften slightly and she doesn't get the feeling that this kid is particularly inclined towards sentiment. "He left last night. Officially. He'd been away for a while but last night..." the boy swallows. "Last night, he returned and packed his things and left."

He looks a little upset and infinitely more human, and she wants to hug him but she doesn't even know him, so she stands there uselessly. He seems to realise that she has nothing to say and he turns around, beginning to walk away. He stops at the edge of his property, and looks at her.

"If you see him... tell him Regulus would appreciate being aware that he is okay," he requests. She nods softly and he inclines his head in return, before turning back into his house.

Marlene walks back to the main road, wheeling her bicycle beside her. She's not sure why James sent her here, but after meeting the boy whom she assumes is Regulus, and seeing how he was like Sirius, but less vibrant, less alive, less _feeling_... she thinks she may be starting to understand why Sirius is so aloof and why he keeps people at arm's length.

And it breaks her heart.

**x**

Benjy is sitting on her porch when she gets home. Lorraine is with him, and she is laughing at something Benjy is saying. It makes Marlene smile, just a little.

"The prodigal daughter returns," Benjy says, upon sighting her.

"Hey, Benj. Whatcha doing here?" Marlene asks, dropping onto the porch beside him.

He shrugs. "I wanted to check on you," he says. "I've barely seen you."

She gives him a look. He frowns. "Mars, you know that just because you yelled at him doesn't mean you have to keep punishing yourself, right? I mean, you're allowed to be you. You're allowed to enjoy yourself."

It's not until he says it that she realises she has been punishing herself; but then, she also knows she's been running away from the situation, so he's not completely right.

"I was out of line," she says shortly.

"I don't think you were," he responds. "But then, it has nothing to do with me. It has nothing to do with anyone 'cept you and Black. So, yeah, talk to him, but talk to us too. Because we miss you. _Both_ of you."

He stands up and shoots Lorraine a smile, before nodding at Marlene and walking away. Marlene waves distractedly, but she's thinking about what he said. The fact that he had to specify missing both of them leads Marlene to think that Sirius hasn't been around either for the last week... and that maybe he's even lonelier than she is, especially if he's just left his family.

The hollow feeling in her chest grows.

**x**

The light is switched off and she's lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The moonlight dances across her skin, throwing shadows off the angles of her body, and she lies there, breathing steadily.

She can't sleep, which is why she's awake at two a.m. when there's a rapping at her window.

Marlene's breath stills as she slowly turns to face her window, and she nearly has a heart attack at the sight of a face. Still, her shock subsides, and she unlatches the window, opening it in order to let the familiar boy into her room.

"You idiot," she hisses, "it's _freezing_. What were you doing in a _tree_ at two a.m. on a cold night?"

Sirius gives her a weak imitation of his usual half-smile, but she hasn't seen _any_ expression of his for two weeks and she's already drowning in him.

She's suddenly very aware that she's in skimpy shorts and one of her dad's old shirts, and Sirius Black is in her room and the last time she saw him was a fortnight ago when she yelled at him for making her care about him and being confusing. She swallows audibly.

The tension is pricking her skin until—"I'm sorry," he says, and she stares at him in shock.

"I—what?" she manages, confused.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. "You were right. I wasn't being fair, and I took more than I gave and—"

"Regulus wants to know if you're okay," she blurts out suddenly and she's not sure why she said it but all she knows is that she _needed_ him to stop talking because there was something horrifically wrong with him apologising to her.

He stiffens. "What?" he says, and his voice is low and dangerous and she closes her eyes and takes a breath.

"He said that if I saw you, to let you know that," she says quietly.

"And when did you meet my brother?" he says quietly. "Or more accurately, _where_?"

"James asked me to go to 12 Grimmauld Place last week," she says, watching him. A wave of emotion surges through her suddenly. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"Tell you what?" he asks sardonically. "How my family are insane and racist and homophobic and elitist and genuinely the worst kind of people you'll ever meet? Why the hell would I have wanted you to know I came from that, that _those_ are my genes and background? Is it not enough for me to hate myself without you hating me too?" and he looks like he's going to start ripping his hair out and before she knows it, Marlene is standing in front of him, mere inches separating them.

"I could never hate you," she says softly, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close to her chest. He may have half a foot on her—5'7" is not short, but he's like 6'1" and it's kind of ridiculous—but she doesn't let that stop her. "I'm so _sorry_," she says into his chest, "for saying what I said and for not finding you and that you feel like that about yourself because you are _not_ your family and you are _not_ their beliefs and nobody can ever make you anything you're not and I hate that you feel like that."

She thinks he might be crying into her hair, but she says nothing, just leads him to her bed where she proceeds to hold him for the rest of the night.

**x**

"I'm sorry for avoiding you," Marlene says, and James squeezes her so tight that it hurts.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again," he mumbles into her hair, half-angrily. "It _sucked_."

At her shaky laugh, he releases her, and surveys her critically before frowning. "You look awful," he notes.

She rolls her eyes. "Why won't Lily go out with you again?" she says sarcastically.

She expects a huff, or maybe a witty retort, but when all that happens is James' face turning beet red, she raises an incredulous eyebrow. "You're kidding," she says, slightly disbelievingly.

"We're not going out," James is quick to reassure her, "but when you and Pads were AWOL, we, I dunno, we hung out a bit. I think she thinks I'm funny," he says, his ears turning slightly pink.

Marlene laughs. "Smooth moves, football star," she crows, this time without a lick of sarcasm.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he dismisses with a roll of his eyes. "What happened with you and Pads?"

"Whatcha mean?"

"He came over here this morning, looking better than he had for days—"

"He's been staying _here_ this whole time?" she interrupts incredulously.

"Nawh, only for about a week," he explains. "Anyway, did he see you last night?"

"Yeah," she admits. Marlene catches sight of his eyebrows waggling and blushes. "Not like _that_, you imbecile. We just... talked."

It was actually kind of awkward, she thinks, because she woke up and he wasn't there and she has _no idea_ where they stand now because for all she knows, last night was simply a hiatus from running away from each other, and even if it wasn't, then, well, they _still_ haven't actually talked about what she said or where they stand and she's just really confused.

James is looking at her carefully. "All right," he says eventually. "Want to go to the park?"

**x**

It's been a few weeks since that night, and they're all hanging out as a group again. And maybe it's a little tense, because everyone skirts around the subject of Sirius living with James and the Prewetts and the fact that Marlene ran out on everyone for a fortnight and they all pretend not to notice how Sirius and Marlene sometimes look at each other a little too long but don't banter how they used to and how all their conversations are careful, measured, the very _opposite_ of easy, but they are a group, and if the dynamic's changed, well, they can just ignore that, can't they?

Apparently not.

Dorcas, armed with Lily and Mary, corners her in the girls' bathroom one day.

"Marlene, what the hell is going on with you and Black?" she demands, folding her arms as the other two flank her.

Marlene curses internally. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says as she washes her hands.

"Codswallop," Dorcas returns briskly. "You know exactly what we're talking about—you and Black, and how you two used to banter and chat and flirt and all sorts of interactive wish-wash until you yelled at him and made up or whatever and now you two won't even be in the same room as each other properly and you talk about the _weather_, of all godforsaken things."

Marlene stares at her. "What?" she asks, because she didn't realise it was so obvious, or that anyone would call her out on it or—wait, _flirting_?

Lily touches her arm gently, handing her a paper towel to dry her hands with. "Marls, we're just worried," she says. "We hoped that if you guys were talking again, it'd be a bit better than... this."

"I don't know where we stand anymore," Marlene admits.

"Well, the boy's bonkers for you, and you're clearly as into him as Snape wishes he was allowed into Lils," Dorcas says flippantly, inciting a gasp from Lily.

"Dorcas! Don't be vulgar," she scolds, looking absolutely mortified. "Anyway—"

"Please don't argue," Marlene says, "because I don't want to see you lose that argument to Dorcas."

"Seriously, Lils," Mary says. "He's really into you. It's kinda..."

"Creepy?" Dorcas offers.

"I was going to say intense," Mary says.

Lily looks very distressed so Marlene decides to help her out, even though she _knows_ she'll regret bringing the attention back to herself. "Sirius doesn't have a thing for me," she says, suddenly very tired. "I'm lucky he's even _talking_ to me." Even though he isn't, really. Even though he looks like he wants to, but bites his lip every time. Even though she wants him to, but doesn't know what she wants him to say.

Lily looks sympathetic. "But you have a thing for him?" she murmurs quietly.

Marlene sighs and nods; even if she'd basically confessed it that day she yelled at him, she had been maintaining otherwise, but now, she doesn't see the point. "Yeah," she admits, "as much as I wish I didn't... yeah."

Dorcas clucks her tongue. "I'm still convinced he likes you, but if he isn't doing a thing about it, well... that boy doesn't know what he's missing."

**x**

Marlene's exiting French with Remus and Mundungus, grinning at Remus and leaning into Mundungus, when she notices Sirius leaning back against a locker across the hallway. She's in a rush to head to her next class, and Mundungus slings his arm around her shoulder to steer her the correct direction, so she cant stop, but she shoots him a curious look as his eyes darken.

She's leaving History with Gus, laughing at one of his jokes and bumping his hip with her own, when she's suddenly very aware of Sirius' presence. She glances up and he's right beside her, breathing heavily, the very picture of fury.

"Sirius, what's wrong?" she asks, concerned, and she's shocked at how much the vehemence of his mirthless laugh affects her.

He's still breathing heavily and he's avoiding her gaze—or at least, keeping his dark glower _firmly_ fixed on Gus—and she's genuinely worried. "Nothing," he spits out. "I'm absolutely _fine_."

He's clearly not but he's also clearly lying and she can't for the life of her think of why and she wonders what on earth Gus did and why Sirius won't even look at her and—

"Mate, I think you should calm down," Gus says firmly, placing a hand on Sirius' arm, and he recoils like he's been burned.

"I am _fine_," he hisses, and then he looks at her, and she finds herself staring back, unable to break his gaze. His eyes seem to her like little revolutions, with fires lit and barricades burning and rebellion screaming in each of them, and she's drowning in him, like always. The fierce look in his eyes makes her want to simultaneously curl into herself and set fire to the world and go down fighting for whatever has him on edge like this, and she hates that she feels like this.

His eyes close off and she wants to scream because as horrifying as she finds the emotions he sparks in her, it's a thousand times worse when he shuts her out and leaves her alone, shivering in the cold, waiting for his fire to rekindle her soul. He runs his hands through his hair and he looks almost desperate for a second, but then he fixes her with an impenetrable gaze. He holds it for a few seconds before he tears himself away and strides off, leaving her standing there, confused and staring after him.

**x**

It's raining and she's wrapped in her favourite cardigan, sipping a cup of tea and trying not to dwell on Sirius' weird behaviour.

Suddenly, there's a pounding on her front door and it's not letting up and—

She swings the door open and Sirius is standing there, soaked to the skin, water dripping off him like an avenging angel, risen from the depths of the sea. Then he blinks, and he looks like a lost boy, standing in the rain, waiting for something to happen, and her heart catches in her throat.

She opens her mouth to chastise him for being out in the rain but he—probably guessing her intentions—holds up his hand. "Wait," he says hoarsely. "I have to—" he breaks off, muttering a curse under his breath as he closes his eyes and turns his head to look to the side of him before turning back to face her.

"I can't quit you," he says desperately, and she's struck dumb by the sheer emotion in his voice, "and I keep trying, again and again, but no matter what I do, something always leads me back to you. I don't know what to do, okay, because everywhere I turn, I'm reminded of you, and it makes no sense, and this is why I have _rules_, why I don't let people in, because I can't afford to, because what if someone _sees_ me and realises I'm not worth it and I know I'm not strong enough for that but _I can't keep you out_ and I know you think I do, because I push you away, but the thing is, McKinnon, you've gotten yourself buried under my skin, and every time I try to scratch you out and dig you out of my veins, I just bring you up to the surface and _there's no escaping it_. There's no quitting you," he says, and he sounds so frustrated, like he's genuinely about to rip out his hair in frustration and he's looking at her like she's the only thing anchoring him to reality, but also like she's a fire he keeps running through and doesn't know how to put out._  
_

"You weren't supposed to happen," he says quietly. "You were just—you were a pretty girl, who walked past me every day and never asked me for my name or even said hello and then suddenly you're the only thing I see when I close my eyes and I have the sound of your laugh memorised and every time you touch me it's like the memory of you is permanently etched onto my skin and it's driving me _crazy_," he bursts out, breathing heavily. "_You_ drive me crazy."

He hesitantly lifts his hand, and moves it closer to her face. Her breath hitches, but she can't move. Marlene is fixed in position, shock locking her legs where they are. He gently strokes her face and tucks an errant curl behind her ear, and she lets out an involuntary sigh. He jerks his hand back, as if burned, as if being reminded that she's real.

By the time she can move again, he's gone.

**x**

**james potter:** [21:51] is sirius with you? he hasnt come home yet and im worried

**james potter:** [21:52] his motorcycle isnt even here

**james potter:** [21:53] marly omg pls reply

**lily evans:** [21:58] mars, potter won't stop freaking out. can u just let one of us know that you're okay and if you've seen sirius? ty xx

**mary macdonald:** [22:04] marly i just saw sirius and he looks awful. i keep trying to call james to let him know but his phone seems to be busy

**james potter:** [22:09] _you have received nineteen missed calls from this number._

**remus lupin:** [22:17] sirius is at mine. i texted mary but let the others know if possible. thanks.

**x**

Marlene rides her bicycle through the town.

It's some time between half past seven and eight am, and she's on her way to Remus' place when she curses and turns around, pedalling in the other direction.

She ends up outside 12 Grimmauld Place.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Sirius asks quietly from his perch on the sidewalk.

She shrugs, clambering off her bike. "I just did," she says. At his questioning look, she quirks her lips. "I guess I figured you'd want to grant Regulus his request before you leave," she says as she drops down next to him.

She feels him stiffen beside her. "Who says I'm leaving?" he asks in a measured tone.

Marlene gives him an unimpressed look. "Well, I'm willing to bet that you've got all your most important possessions tucked away in that little backpack, there," she says, nodding towards the backpack he has propped up beside _Marauder_.

He flinches. "I'm not... running away," he mumbles.

"Sure you are," she says easily. "It doesn't mean you're a coward."

"You don't understand," he says. "I was going to come back."

She tilts her head. "For what?" she asks.

He swallows. "To see if anything was left."

"Worth saving?" she prompts.

"Worth staying for," he corrects without looking at her.

"I'm not," she tells him.

"You are," he says with a snort. "If anything, you are."

"Still, you can't," she insists.

"Don't want me to?" he asks with a crooked smile.

"Can't let you," she says, and she's looking at her feet, because she doesn't trust herself to look at him. She might cry, or worse, lose her resolve. "I can't ever be what keeps you back from anything." She thinks about what Hestia said that night she rejected Kingsley. "I can't be the thing that keeps you here." Even if it feels like she's losing a part of herself; not a limb, she thinks derisively, but her very soul.

Suddenly, Sirius' hand is clasping hers, and he's tilting her head towards his and she finds herself looking directly into his eyes. "You could come with me," he offers gently.

Marlene is suddenly struck with the memory of his words yesterday, about how terrified he is of letting people in because they might decide he's not worth it, and she's very aware of how much he's putting on the line, how much courage he's using to ask her to join him.

She thinks about how she always promised herself to never do something just for a boy, and how much she hated the thought of running away from a broken heart. Then she thinks about that night under the stars where Sirius asked her if she wanted the world as he saw it and she said yes, about how much she's always wanted to get out of this place, and about the difference between running away from something and chasing dreams. She thinks about James, stuck in this town for a year, and maybe returning to his old life any day now. She thinks of Lily, who's going to help hundreds of people—Marlene knows it in her bones—and Mary and Remus who found a sense of belonging within each other. She thinks of Lorraine, and the way she looked, laughing with Benj that day on the porch, and she thinks of Fabian and Dorcas, always insisting they had nothing going on. She thinks of Regulus, locked away in his mansion with gargoyles on the outside and monsters living inside, and she thinks of Sirius, with his little rebellion against authority and his dreams of something better.

Marlene McKinnon looks at Sirius Black and commits him to memory. She wants to remember him like this forever; eyes slightly hopeful, more supernovas than riots, and his dark hair a shaggy mess, with his lips quirked into that hopeful half-smirk and his arm tapping the ground in his nervousness.

"Okay."

* * *

**author's note:** um. yeah. please review, if you've read this far, and if you like this enough to favourite it, i'd really appreciate a review as well. also, this is the longest one-shot i've ever written and goodness me. if you've made it this far, you are a hero. the ff word count is off, i promise, but it's still about 13.5k, so you're seriously a champ if you made it. xx


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